


Project Romeo Bravo Alpha

by Myrsky



Series: Reconstruct Bucky [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, M/M, Recovered Memories, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3944011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrsky/pseuds/Myrsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is staying at Stark Tower when Steve suddenly comes back with two people – Sam, who is totally fine, and Bucky Barnes, who is absolutely <i>not</i> fine. Half his mechanical arm is missing, he's not talking to anyone and he has taken to hiding in the vents.</p>
<p>Fixing the arm in such situation? <i>Peachy</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New file, Project Romeo Bravo Alpha

“Where's he, Jarvis?” He asks, not for the first time during the last week.

He is constantly feeling nervous, like _it_ could fall over him on any second now. What the hell does _it_ meant to be, anyway... Is it the responsibility, the guilt – and why or how could he feel guilty now, this situation is absolutely not his fault... but then is there any issue in the world he can feel totally guilt free about, like a regular human person? Maybe it is his fault, he did told Steve he could fix the arm–, or perhaps is it the man himself what will fall over him?

' _Don't let it be the last_.' he thinks like a mantra. A super-soldier falling over a non-suited Tony Stark will be a not favourable option in terms of survival. Like, he has one chance in a ten to not to be crushed to the ground, and that's only if the Soldier isn't wearing any weapons. And he's kind of fond of living.

So he asks Jarvis where is the Soldier. Lots. No, it has nothing to do with the fact that he's getting obsessed with Barnes and the Winter Soldier. No, it has nothing to do with having replayed each and every video file on the Winter Soldier through Jarvis' system a thousand times by now while he works on the arm.

“Vents, at Captain Rogers' floor, Sir. He is currently hiding at a corner that had been deemed inaccessible by Mr. Barton.” Jarvis informs him, showing a blueprint of the place he is talking about. It's over Steve's kitchen and it's narrow, so narrow that Barton couldn't go inside when he was mapping the vents.

Maybe the Soldier was cooking and Steve entered the room unexpectedly. Maybe the smells conjured him there. Who knows. He doesn't look malnourished when the cameras catch him so perhaps he has been eating – actually, scratch that, he must have been eating or he'd be half starved after a week –, but has been curling away from anyone's sight since Steve brought him to the tower.

It shouldn't surprise anyone, and it certainly doesn't surprise Tony, but Steve seems to be really pissed by it – which is quite the feat, we are talking about Saint Captain here. It's like Steve is personally offended by the Soldier hiding away when he just entered enemy soil and all he's worried about is about mapping the territory and discerning if they are a threat or not. But it's just because according to Steve, Bucky's memories should override 75 years of brainwashing and torture and bring back the boy who was.

He waves his hand to hide the blueprint, turning away from Jarvis' vigilance – yup, active vigilance, it is a current assassin, even if they are trying to ignore that point – to focus back on the bits and pieces on his work bench for the nth time in the day.

Steve dropped them with him when he said that he'd fix the arm, just the remains of the arm that Sam had picked up after the fight, when Steve was too busy holding Bucky.

He can already recognize and name the bits with a single glance, after having been pinned to them for a week. They are:

* Two fingers;

* what looks like one of the rings of the wrist;

* some long pieces that belonged to the radius and ulna;

* scraps of unidentified _tissue_.

Who would have guessed that the HYDRA goons worked on designs based on the actual human body. But then again, when people can't make something better, what they have left is to copy an older design and hopes it works. That's basically what they did, even if the result had been awesome and had resisted for years – decades, really – before getting broken. But now it had actually been broken beyond recognition, he had to examine the things over and over again before coming with a name for them. And with most of the _tissue_ , which are probably the most important bits, when it comes to connect the metal and the brain, he has no clue at all of what to do with it.

There is a sad part to that. If he can't take a look at the actual stuff that remains on Bucky's arm, he won't be able to copy it in a functional way. Of course, he could make something better, but it wouldn't be compatible with the remains of his old arm and... it's not like they can tear the old arm off, not without actually killing the man, and much less if the Soldier does not agree with the operation. It doesn't look like he will. He only has this scraps because Steve picked them up and brought them here, and even though half of the Soldier's arm has been chopped off, he won't allow Tony anywhere near it.

Sometimes, when the Soldier is in the same room as he is – hiding away somewhere – he will feel the active observance of the Soldier. He's being watched. And evaluated. And he's fucking nervous, almost scared, because the Soldier is silent and they are nowhere near understanding him.

Jarvis projects the pieces on the holographic design even before he asks for it and he starts working on a new rendering trial. Perhaps this project needs human interaction, some intuition that the machine lacks – ' _No, Jarvis, not a word against you, buddy_ ' –, there are too many pieces and there is no actual data to make out which parts are important and which aren't, to distinguish base from details and to recreate them from scratch.

Jarvis has been trying for 2 days in a row now to get any useful rendering, and they all fail. Perhaps he will be luckier but... it's unlikely, at the very least.

He sighs, throwing away the first idea as the rendering (Project Romeo Bravo Alpha, Render 5287) gives him a tight ball contracted on itself instead of allowing any movement.

How much would he have loved to see the real deal. The arm working as a whole, with the metallic _skin, bones, tendons and muscle_ , to see how it all worked together before it broke. He has seen footage, of course he has – hell, he has spent days watching the videos –, but it's nothing like feeling it under his own hands, being able to track the small electric impulses that create the movement, the surges in the power that allowed the coordination of the different sets of muscles just like it was a normal limb, the fusing of the nerves with the artificial tissue, all the sensors copying the human receptors,... God, he could get a boner thinking about that arm.

His second attempt of the evening (Project Romeo Bravo Alpha, Render 5304) creates something that resembles an arm, but when a normal pressure is applied – forget about the inhuman strengths the two of them have –, it bends in half, snapping the bone.

It's impossible. Fucking impossible. With the bits, he can do nothing.

And being unable to do anything hurts more than it should – because he shouldn't care about this issue and he shouldn't be taking care of it, in fact, he shouldn't have allowed the man to set a foot on his tower. The Soldier had killed thousands.

The Soldier had killed his parents, Steve had called him when the information of HYDRA and SHIELD had been released. Tony had deleted most of it, but... he has read it, and he knows it.

In a twisted way, he wants for the new arm to fail after having been installed, he wants to take everything from the Soldier just as he was left alone in the world.

Some part of him actually remembers his father vividly, even if it's never as a source of love but as someone who died before Tony could prove that he was worthy... it's not like it matters if it was before or after, because no words of approval would have ever escaped through Howard's lips. Ever.

And every time he realizes this, he forgives the man behind the Soldier, he forgives Bucky Barnes, because there was nothing left for him coming from his parents and it's not like he could have avoided becoming the Winter Soldier.

The truth is, indeed, that there never was anything left for him.

Steve took everything.

And now, it's Steve who asked him to fix the arm. Steve begged him, even before he could say that yes, he would love to work on that arm. Steve and his damn heartbreaking face. Steve and his orders.

_Reconstruct Bucky's arm._ Project Romeo Bravo Alpha.  _He's in pain. I can't see him suffer. Please. He needs to be complete to come back._

He quickly agreed to building the arm but...

He's not worthy again. He has failed the task even before he started to work on it. There is nothing he can do. Steve will be so disappointed. This arm is like another completely different league and he doesn't even know stuff about anatomy, not more than he had to learn to stitch himself up.

And the results he is getting from it is... nothing. Nothing at all. More than five thousand renderings... and nothing... each and every of them crumbles to dust. And every failure hurts.

The main screen at his desktop keeps running numbers, as it has been doing for the days, since he discovered what each piece does.

Project Romeo Bravo Alpha, render 5462.

He takes a wrench from over the table and throws it hard, the tool clashing against the metallic ceiling before falling down. Boom-boom-boom.

“I hate you!” He shouts at the top of his lungs, and he doesn't know who is he referring to. The whole world, everyone, none.

“You, fucking dumb piece of shit!” He keeps swearing at the top if his lungs, pacing through the room and allowing the feeling to drown him for once, punching a few mugs out of the tables.

Desperation.

He is desperate, yes, and if he messes this one none will believe in him again, as few as they did nowadays, none will ask him for any update, he will be a pariah for as long as he lives. So he will forever be the guy who just creates the messes and never cleans after himself. Every mistake needs the whole team to fix it, and when someone asks him to do something...

He can't.

_Can't do it._

_Can't fail._

_Can't... won't._

Because this situation is just what he needed after all, another opportunity to show how he can ( _not_ ) work with people, because if this project was about a goddamn machine, instead of someone who was hiding from him...

“Goddammit!”

After yelling all the insults he knows in English, he moves to Italian and French, giving his last shots to any other language he can curse in. Having a super spy always comes handy to learn new insults, especially when she knows a ton of languages.

And when he turns back to the bench, ready to throw it all off the table, he cries out in surprise. A very surprised and a very uncharacteristic sound for him... okay, totally a yelp.

Because the Soldier is sitting on his workbench, chest completely bare, his skin full of small scars, his flesh arm cradling the broken one, and he's in a totally submissive pose. He must have lost his hair band while crawling through the vents, because his hair is free and falling down on his face, covering partially his eyes, almost closed.

Tony stays quiet, still trying to process what is the Soldier doing here, how in hell has he entered the workshop. Perhaps now when he has decided to kill them all. But why is he so still then?

“I knew him.” He says, his voice hoarse and his accent thick, almost impossible to understand.

Tony blinks, still quiet. What is that? A code? If he says something wrong now, will the Soldier gut him? The Soldier turns to look at him, tilting his head and opening his blue eyes, focusing them on him for the first time.

“Yeah, yeah, sure you did, buddy.” He mutters, getting closer even if he's yet to see if the situation will turn hostile.

The Soldier nods, still holding his missing arm, but he releases it as soon as he notices that Tony is staring at it. The Soldier looks down again, completely still like some kind of sculpture, something craved in marble instead of a real human being.

Some part of his mind is worrying about what was done to this person to make him turn so docile when he could have literally ripped apart anyone who dares to touch him, but he's too excited to take a look at that thought.

“Let me take a look at that, will you?” He says, trying to hide the sudden wave of greediness that he's feeling, because he has the arm in front of him at last. At last. All for him. And now he can study it, pull it apart and put it back together.

The Soldier holds his arm out, his eyes unfocused and the mouth hanging half open, as if he were expecting to get something slotted there. It all goes amiss to Tony's eyes.

“Buddy?” He says, unsure about how to call him, but close enough to his old name to be recognized if so he wishes to hear. “This may hurt, tell me if we need to stop.”

The Soldier nods, staying completely still but it doesn't look like he really understood the meaning of his words. Not like Tony cares a great deal after he laid down that he _would_ stop at any point if the other man disagrees, even if he would be pissed and pouty for missing the opportunity.

The silence is almost unnerving at first but as he starts working on the arm, he eventually forgets about everything else, focusing just in the work, the gorgeous piece of art in front of him.

Because checking the arm, everything makes sense. Suddenly, the parts are bits no more, now they have become a jigsaw puzzle and each and every one of them has a distinctive pattern. He might have only a part of an articulation – that is, the elbow because the shoulder offers no data of interest to this issue – but he can foresee no problems extrapolating the data he will need for knuckles and the fingers, and while the wrist could be trickier if fine detail is needed – and it certainly is –, it should be easily discernible now.

He is so completely delighted that he turns to the holograms, forgetting about the unmoving man over the table and turning the music on on full volume. The Soldier blinks at the sudden noise, but stays still otherwise.

He works so dedicatedly, taking every small holographic piece and copying it in bigger patterns, creating pieces of the correct size for everything he needs. Every muscle; every ligament and tendon; every bone – ' _Jarvis, for fuck's sake, I should never break my wrists again, can't believe how I'm not crippled yet, make a note to improve the wrist covers at the suits_ '; all the lining tissue which is something electronic and incredibly complicated but it made perfect sense as soon as he could see the arm; and every electric nerve that should connect it all to the brain – and this is the part he can't fail at, even if he manages to everything until this part, it will be good for nothing if _Bucky_ can't move the arm.

It takes him hours to actually create all the holographic components for a perfect arm but he finally has them all laid out in front of him on the table. A movement of his wrist is enough to make the music stop.

“Get me everything ready for another rendering. I'm gonna place the pieces and it _has_ to work. Jay, babe, pray everything you know for it to work.”

Before Jarvis can answer, though, he can hear a voice mumbling some prayer and he almost jumps in his feet before turning to see... Jay... James... _Bucky_ with his eyes closed shut, his elbows bent close and his flesh hand up almost like he was holding the ghost of the other.

The image is so angelic that he forgets about everything else for a second, and it'd seen that Jarvis has seen the importance of it, because no noises interrupt Bucky, a light flickering when the rendering is ready for the pieces to be thrown in.

Project Romeo Bravo Alpha, render 7319.

He places them reverently, feeling like the blue light was actually a force of creation. It is, in some senses. If he got this right, then Jarvis can recreate it in all its metallic glory. Only if he got this idea right.

He has to do it. It's essential.

Half an hour goes by while he places every piece on its logical position, a constant rumble of prayers, sometimes in a language he doesn't understand, sometimes in English, soothing him and steadying his pulse as he works.

What he is doing, it's not just for himself. He shouldn't be feeling so greedy about this moment because he's not important, what is important is... the person praying on the table. Whomever he is. ' _Jay._ ' a part of his own mind supplies.

And when the last piece is in, he softly gestures for Jarvis to run it. To test it. To make sure that this is it, that this fucking rendering is the last one because they have finally got it right and he can replace from the elbow down in something that will work with the rest.

The first time that the holographic arm twists at the elbow, his heart stops beating in excitement until he can see that everything is alright. When the strength tests start, he is gripping the hem of his own t-shirt so hard that his knuckles are white. There might be a new hole in the t-shirt. He has never actually seen those tests running now. Each and every of the 7318 arms before this one failed way before.

When it all stops, he drops to his knees because he can't stand the pressure anymore. His heart is beating so fast and so hard, that he isn't sure he will be able to listen to Jarvis.

“The rendering is successful, Sir. Congratulations.”


	2. Jay

Tears flow to his eyes, and he quickly wipes them away, standing up with a smile. A smile so bright that it could light the whole workshop up. He has done it. The model is perfect and it will work. He walks to Bucky, stopping right in front of him, far enough, though, for it to be comfortable to anyone, even if they aren't wishing for human interaction, trying not to crowd him.

“Jay?” He says lightly, with a friendly voice. As non cocky as he can manage, at last, he just recreated a piece of mechanical art. Actually, he might start a whole new field in prosthetics. If that isn't something to be proud of, then he knows nothing.

“Yea?” The Brooklyn's accent fill the short word, making him release the breath he was unconsciously holding.

“Do you know who am I, Jay?”

Bucky, because yeah, it's the first time he is _actually_ meeting Bucky, opens his eyes looking quizzically at him, from head to toes. Some sense of recognisance makes him squint his eyes but he shakes his head at last. “You do look familiar, but I don't know you, Sir. Sorry.”

“Tony, Tony Stark.” He holds out his hand and Bucky quickly shakes it.

“A brother of Howard?” Bucky looks blissfully oblivious, and his voice sounds so young that he can't but wonder if perhaps some of his war's memories have been deleted as well. He wants to cringe at the question but he doesn't really want to tell Bucky about his father just now.

“Yeah, no, not at all. For that, buddy, I'm gonna need someone else to talk to you first. Would you mind if I call someone else here, Jay?”

Bucky shakes his head, keeping his eyes off of Tony's, looking at his chest instead. The poor boy is scared. He moves back, going next to a wall to actually tell Jarvis to call Steve. He doesn't want to make him more scared by showing off every aspect of the new world to someone who doesn't know what happened yet, it's just pure luck that he hasn't gone mad crazy with the holographic show from before. And Bucky will have so much to digest that he can't figure how to tell him everything.

After telling Steve to come down as soon as possible, he takes a mug and fills it with fresh water from a bottle he just opened, before coming closer to Bucky again. The mug is accepted in a heartbeat, and it's drowned almost as fast. He refills it and now Bucky seems content.

“Are you hungry? Can I get you anything to eat, Jay, do you need anything else?”

“No, thanks, Sir. All fine.” The kid is not even fidgeting, he's sitting all stiff. It's making him fucking nervous. Anxious, actually.

When the elevator doors open, Steve strides in, walking so forcefully that Tony opens his eyes widely, gesturing just with a couple of fingers between the two of them to silently ask him to chill it. The entrance has been luckily silent, and if Bucky has heard the steps, he hasn't even blinked. Tony takes in a breath and prays mentally to whomever Bucky was praying before for the rendering to work before, because he'll need as much luck for this to work out now.

“Jay, I'm going to introduce you to someone. Would you be so kind to tell me if you two have met before? This is my friend, ” he holds out a hand in Steve's direction, almost forgetting how to breathe “Captain Steve Rogers.”

Bucky's head snaps at that, and he actually stands up, throwing himself at Steve's arms. If he had both arms, he'd be hugging the shit out of Steve, because even one armed he's clinging to the man's chest. ' _Bucky, Bucky, Bucky._ ' is what Steve is saying, like a mantra, pulling him even closer and wrapping both his arms around Bucky's waist. Almost like he was a doll.

There is a pang on his chest when he sees the image developing in front of him, and he doesn't know where did it come from. Jealousy. Yup, that's jealousy. Why? Why now?

Okay, perhaps it is because he did all the work and none has congratulated him, save from Jarvis, and they are just cuddling each other in front of him and he hasn't gotten a hug in months, not since Pepper stormed out of his life, and he's touch starved and... damn, how much he'd like to be in between of the super-soldiers right now...

He shakes his head and leaves the workshop, after quietly prompting Jarvis to start the building of the arm, piece per piece because he will join them by hand. The project is worth his time and it's worth the ability to change stuff on the go, having Bucky's arm available for check up at all times if he is able to convince Bucky of actually staying with him while he builds the arm.

He takes the elevator to the communal floor, going to the kitchen to see if there are some leftovers of Steve's food to bring down for Bucky. Surely, the boy will appreciate something that had been cooked by Steve better than some regular take-out. There are a couple of dishes of cheese macaroni that he quickly reheats and he takes them down personally, placing them on a table before retreating again, trusting that the scent will be enough to make Bucky interested in the food. The poor boy must be ravenous, they have been down at the workshop for hours and God knows when he may have eaten before that.

He reheats something for himself as well, but it's something unidentified, he doesn't remember anymore what it was supposed to be (Chinese, Indian, Thai?), but it tastes totally fine so it's all good. The kind of good in ' _it's not poisoned_ ', at least.

He goes straight to the bed after eating the food, collapsing as soon as his body touches the mattress, his body so overwhelmed by all the emotions of the day that he can actually sleep fine, with no nightmares waking him up in the middle of the night.

It's Jarvis who wakes him up, as soon as all the pieces are ready, and he gets dressed and grabs a coffee before going down to the workshop, all the events of the day before a haze on his under-caffeinated brain. He expects to find the pieces laid on the workbench for him, but what he doesn't expect at all to find when he crosses the doors to the workshop is the two super-soldiers still holding each other, now sitting on his couch and talking into each other's ear; Steve's hand laid gently on Bucky's knee and Bucky's arm wrapped around Steve's shoulders. They are sickly sweet and the jealousy hits him hard again.

He busies himself in the work bench, taking a magnifier and beginning to join all the small pieces together. The first finger is a hell to put together, it takes him literally hours, and at the beginning he's feeling absolutely desolated and unable to continue, because he doesn't know enough biology to put this all together, he should have definitely never done this, he's crazy.

He's crazy, totally crazy, to think that this could work.

But then there are these two pieces here, they would fit nicely together... and yes, they absolutely fit, and they can bend and move like a normal joint of the body. And now that you suggest it, this would fit with that. And hey, if this has to get stitched together, that's it, this will make it even without the stitches. And that time that he broke his middle finger – going around with the cradle on his middle finger was glorious –, didn't the knuckle look just like this in the x-ray?

When the finger in front of him has taken shape and it does, indeed, resemble a human finger? Oh, the joy he feels. He pumps his fist in the air, celebrating with himself.

He eventually tuned all the noise and voices out, even the maddening and continuous string of whispers from the two super-soldiers, focusing solely on the pieces in front of him, growing bigger every time... and he's completely focused until he reaches the wrist.

The wrist makes him get to the point of blood, sweat and tears, and the blood bit of the idiom isn't too far away from the truth as he scratches his own face inadvertently when he was nervously itching his beard. His hands are a mess, full of small cuts and burns, his nails chipped from grabbing so tightly the smaller pieces in place.

Slowly, but surely, the device on the table starts looking more like a hand and less like a science fair project – especially when the first parts were something that would have not been worthy of his seven years old self who presented a self created computer that was ten times faster than the computers at his school. The computers for the secretary and director, that's it, because none else had something that resembled a computer, even if he attended to the best school money could pay.

“Stark.” Someone says behind him, making him jumpy but not reacting fast enough for the voice, because he continues “Tony.”

Tony takes a hand to his chest, almost jumping on his feet by the surprise “Yeah, no, buddy. You just can't go around giving heart attacks to people who's working on delicate stuff.” He thinks about adding ' _especially when the delicate stuff is for you_ ', but truth to be told, Bucky did never ask for it. It would be good to remember that, if the boy isn't actually too grateful, too happy or he doesn't, even remotely, seem to like it after all.

He turns his head to spot Steve, asleep on his couch, curled towards the place that was being occupied by Bucky before. “I... I apologize.” Bucky stutters at last.

Okay, perfect, now he has embarrassed the boy. “No worries.” He winks, unaware of doing it, he's trying to fall back into a more playful role, because he's trying to ease Bucky.

Bucky blinks and frowns slightly before smiling, walking a step closer to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Steve has told me about everything you have been doing for me. Thank for your kindness, Sir.”

He chuckles, leaning closer to the hand “Sir is just for Jarvis. Tony's fine for you, 'cause that's for my friends.” He pauses dramatically for a second, tilting his head “Now, the question of the century, quite literally at that, is: How can I call you?”

“Bucky's fine. Jay's fine, too.” Bucky smiles so warmly, and his hand seems to be really warm as well, almost like he was made of sunshine. He seems to have all the qualities of Saint Steve Rogers, even if HYDRA turned him into an inhuman assassin, a nightmare and a myth of the special forces all around the world. “My mother, I have a memory where she called me Jay. Almost none did, afterwards... but it's good as well.”

They both stay silent for a while, Bucky's hand still on his shoulder and he's leaning closer, taking a small step towards Tony as his fingers are lightly tracing patterns over the rumpled t-shirt. A very tactile person, or so it seems. Bucky looks totally on board with cuddling anyone.

A cuddle would be fine right now, really.

“What is that?” Bucky asks, tilting his head to all the pieces spread on the table.

“A new arm, for you.” Something inside Bucky's eyes flicker at the words, something hard and inhuman replacing the light; and he pulls his hand from Tony's shoulder like the touch had burnt him “Hey, Jay.” He calls out and holds his hands up, showing his palms in a peace offering “I'm not going to hurt you, okay? I am only building this because Steve thought you'd get better, if your arm was complete. If you don't want it, I'll throw it away. Promise.”

Bucky observes him intently, his stare still almost too hard, it makes him want to break eye contact because it's just like the stare he got before. Bucky slowly nods, leaning towards the table and resting his elbows on the surface, reclining his body over it.

“Agreed.” Bucky answers, his voice not as clear as it was before, even if the tone is almost completely the same.

Tony starts working again, as it's clear that Bucky doesn't want to talk anymore, welding the pieces together. Occasionally, Bucky will come closer and silently help him placing some part, if he struggles to keep them together. Like, actually, Bucky is a better helper than Dum-E and he doesn't even have to get prompted on which pieces to hold and where, he's simply observing Tony work and making deductions from there.

Small praises escape from his lips, encouragements as the ones that he offers to Dum-E as he has done for years to improve his AI. Bucky, though? He seems to love the encouragements as well, he's back to smiling even if the hardness of his eyes isn't completely gone. Being helpful might be good for the person he has become, whomever he is at the moment.

“Can I touch your arm?” He says at last, chuckling when he's offered the metallic one “Nope, the other. For reasons. Totally honest reasons, I swear.” He crosses his fingers over his heart, smiling lightly as he says “Boy Scout's honour word. Not that I ever was one, but...”

Bucky's face when he heard that was the perfect expression of disbelief and surprise. “What?”

“Yes, Jay, I want to touch your arm to see where should I connect this muscle.” He gently flails the muscle around, showing it to Bucky “But if it makes you uncomfortable, we shall skip that step and I'm sure I'll guess it as we go.”

Bucky holds his arm out, staying perfectly still otherwise, so Tony can dip his fingers in the flesh, rotating the arm and rolling his fingers in the joints, taking special care to feel over the bones, his fingers tracing the forearm.

“I wouldn't be so packed in a thousand years.” He murmurs to himself.

“I was injected with stuff.” Bucky answers nevertheless, his tone friendly enough “I mean, I was in the army before and I was in good shape before getting doped but so are you. In a surprisingly good shape, though, given what Steve told me about your suits.”

“You need some strength to guide them, yup.” He agrees in few words, he's almost uncharacteristically quiet because he doesn't want to piss Bucky off, he wants to listen to that calm voice, to get to touch that warm skin and to receive that smile each day for the rest of his life.

“Your father never dreamt about anything like that. Flying suits for fighting criminals... Can't believe what happened to him... that I...” He stops and huffs briefly, frowning lightly as he changes the topic, as if he thinks that Tony will go back to that previous topic “Disappointed there aren't any flying cars, though.”

It's almost like touching and holding his skin is the key to make Bucky talk about whatever, he opens up as soon as someone touches him.

“I could make flying cars quite easily, with the repulsors technology, but I _actually_ like the roads to travel and I wouldn't trust people not to crash them against the houses of their foes. You know, I would totally be crowded here.” He smiles, self-deprecating, which makes Bucky move get to a hold on his hand.

“Hey.” Bucky says, totally caressing his hand now, holding it close to his chest and threading his thumb over the back of his fingers “I don't know you much but you are good. You have been really kind to me and there were no reasons at all for you to do that. In fact, there are reasons for you to not to treat me that good.”

“That wasn't you. It's all fine.” He dismisses the topic and releases Bucky's hand, feeling oddly uncomfortable, and going back to the mechanical arm. The arm that won't get cuddly or talk back about feelings and that definitely won't fill his mind with all kind of contradictory feelings.

Bucky squints his eyes but he says nothing, going back to a not-so-easy silence. It doesn't suit him, though, even if he looks ridiculously good while pouting, like that luscious mouth was done for having its lips in movement. Movements that would make funny things to his own blood flow, like watching Bucky sucking on a thumb... or... sucking another things...

Wait... what?! Okay, wrong track of thoughts. He sighs and frowns lightly, which makes Bucky copy his expression but they both remain quiet as he works on the arm, quickly (and completely) finishing the forearm.

As soon as the forearm is done, Bucky stirs in his place to get his attention. “We should go to sleep.” His voice is warm and some part of himself wants to take it as an invite. Really.

“'kay, take Cap, he will show you your room.” He waves an arm, dismissing the plural subject, because he didn't want to think about what Bucky and Steve will do now. The two of them together in that apartment, he guesses that even if they have a whole level to themselves, they won't actually take much space. No more than a room.

“I meant that you too should go to sleep.” Bucky answers, not giving up.

“I am not sleepy,” he says, while the welder slips between his fingers burning his hand right under the wrist.

“Surely not.” Bucky says with a smirk, while taking hold of the welder and turning it off. Really, the guy has crazy observational skills. He should never try to lie to Bucky... but he will always try to lie him. As he always does.

“Okay.” He shrugs, turning every tool off “But you take Cap upstairs, I don't want to hold the super-soldier and you're going to his floor anyway. He's damn heavy.”

Bucky grins in victory, taking Steve from the couch like Steve weighted nothing, holding one of Steve's arms around his neck and wrapping his only arm around his waist, and it gives the vibe that is exactly how he had held Steve countless times before.

And if Tony is jealous again and he wants to feel that body pressed against himself... it's not Bucky's nor Steve's fault but damn... he will need a cold shower before going to sleep, and it won't be cold because he has to treat his small burns, not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third chapter will be posted tomorrow, and the epilogue (aka, the fourth chapter) on Monday, if I finish ironing it out. 
> 
> I have a [tumblr](http://myrskyhao.tumblr.com/) and sometimes I think aloud there. Feel free to take a peek :)


	3. Too late to apologize

When morning comes, he's actually awake when his alarm sounds and after a quick shower and breakfast he goes down to the workshop, just to find Bucky standing near the door.

“The voice told me you were coming.” Bucky says, unprompted, like he's trying to excuse his presence around Tony. Definitely, he shouldn't have avoided Bucky's touch yesterday when Bucky talked about Howard, but it's a bit too late to fix that.

“That's Jarvis, buddy.” He smiles brightly, tapping his code to the workshop's door and trying to not to reject any advance from Bucky again, especially the friendly ones if he doesn't want this to get awkward “You can also call him Jay, I do that all the time.”

“Oh, so that's why you like me.” Bucky winks at him with a small smirk “I have a wonderful namesake. A very intelligent system.”

That makes him smile and he wonders if Steve told him what the acronym means or if he got four out of six as a pure matter of luck. It also makes him wonder if Bucky can hear the flip his stomach did when Bucky winked at him, because it totally did. “You can use him for whatever, you know. If you need help and Steve or I aren't around, ask Jarvis and he'll help you.”

“Thank you.” It's an earnest answer, and the smile with which the words are received is the warmest he has ever seen. And having seen Steve smile, that's a lot to say. The smile leaves him slightly helpless, his heart wasn't ready to experience such a powerful feeling.

“You're welcome.” He answers automatically, tripping on his feet on his way inside. He holds his arms out, getting ready for the fall but... A warm arm wraps around his waist, pulling him back towards a heavy and hard chest.

“Careful.” The air exhaled by the words almost tickle his ear, and he feels himself flush suddenly. God. He has had so much sex that he could write a book (or a thousand books) about it and he is like a teen again. Like no man had touched him before.

“Yup. Totally will do that. Being careful sounds awesome.” He mutters when Bucky releases him, and he avoids looking at anything but the floor, going to the workbench and only relaxing when he has his tools in hand again, to work on the arm. It's just then when he can focus again on the project, trying to forget about the man reclining next to him with his arm on the table.

The forearm was completed yesterday, so the first bit for today is the elbow. That's surprisingly much easier than the wrist and perhaps he will make a note to take the hits on it, because even if it hurts more in a first moment... maybe it's not so bad. That... or actually paying attention to Natasha and learn how to dodge and accommodate the blows that the enemy proffers. But nah, that's not his thing. Better stick to the classics, like ' _Hey, nice attack, I have a pretty thick skull under the metallic suit, you can land the blow there._ '

Before moving from the elbow, he makes the first actual trial run of the arm, sending small electric signals through the nerves to make sure that the movements of the fingers are correct, that the wrist bends and the vents open. It's also a helluva strong arm, because when he sticks a metal rod in between the fingers to test its strength, it gets snapped in two in a blink, when the power of the arm isn't near its limits.

The first time Tony pulls back from the table, it's for studying one of the upper arms' muscles, trying to determine what it is and where should it be connected because he can't certainly differ the shoulder part from the elbow one or the back from the front. However, when he turns to the reclined figure of Bucky... ' _Oh, wow, that's some pretty fine ass._ ' Wait... not the correct train of thoughts, _again_. It is a muscle, he can't deny that, but not the muscle he _should_ be looking for... at... _whatever_. Any other muscle would be better than _that_.

His eyes wander back to Bucky's arm and shoulder, and if he is almost blushing... and why on hell is he blushing again, he loves flirting and men and he has no reason to blush when one of the people he admired the most when he was younger is being actually nice to him and... well, he hopes Bucky doesn't notice any of his weird behaviours, even if that looks actually impossible.

As much as that scares him, Bucky genuinely smiles and offers him the arm, without asking why for this time. He's so relieved Bucky took the stares as something innocent, because, yeah, building arms is a totally innocent reason. Having a crush? Totally not innocent, when you are not fifteen and the person on the other side of the crush is either a) taken by Steve Rogers or b) not interested at all.

His hands roam the arm, fingers dipping gently to feel the muscle under the t-shirt, and making a small grunt of acknowledgement when he finally has the correct mindset to keep building the arm. It may be a bit before getting to know completely Bucky's arm, because if he kept stroking that arm, so muscled, so perfectly defined and hard, another thing would be getting awkwardly hard... and he has no doubts about that finally scaring Bucky off, if nothing else did before.

“Are you alright, Tony?” Bucky asks when his hands stop moving, and Tony is still too blushed to look at Bucky's eyes so all he perceives is the voice, a tone that is so deeply caring that Tony can't suppress a shiver.

“Yes.” He answers, showing nothing of his character, trying to keep his voice neutral as well.

“You look...” Bucky starts, but he quickly stops, and Tony can feel a stare piercing him. “Not so alright?”

Tony doesn't answer to that, even if he can feel his cheeks and neck burning up now, totally red and blushed. It is a great moment to be transparently clear about his feelings, _right now_ when he met the most perceptive person ever and when he's asking to touch his arm for not entirely innocent reasons.

Bucky would beat Natasha as top spy, he's damn sure of that, even if he won't say so to Natasha. He doesn't know if that's a Bucky or a Winter Soldier thing, but... Bucky is, damn it, _the_ observer. A weapon of detection for Tony's embarrassment.

And Tony doesn't speak again until the arm is completely done. The times when he'd open his mouth, then he'd feel Bucky staring at him and that'd make his skin tingle; so he'd shut every thought off with a shake of his head as he'd be totally unable to talk. It'd be less embarrassing if he could actually speak, but he has probably lost his voice a while back.

“Come, please.” He says when the arm is done with a broken voice, and he gestures for Bucky to sit at the closest chair. He has a couple of screwdrivers in his pants and all the other necessary tools nearby.

Detaching the arm may be tricky, but now he thinks that after all he has studied the arm he knows what to pull and press for the piece under the armpit to release it completely and, hopefully, effortlessly and painlessly.

Bucky sits down at the chair and takes his t-shirt off, even without a prompt from Tony. He must be way too used to being half naked for reparations, when it comes so naturally to him.

Bucky moves the arm easily when Tony is touching it, asking for Bucky to tilt it one way or another, but it's quite clear that he is not exactly comfortable. It doesn't look like he's in pain, so Tony keeps working on the arm, slowly and surely, trying not to touch any nerve.

It is easy. Actually, really easy, so much that he can't understand how Bucky was hurt so badly before while doing this kind of reparation, unless they wanted it to hurt, as a wicked way of controlling the Soldier. Some part of the stillness in Bucky, is something that he associates with the Soldier because he's wearing almost the same expression as he did a couple of days back, when the one who sneaked into the workshop and the one who was sitting on the workbench was the Soldier.

The new arm with the old technology is beautiful. He had Jarvis drawing the star, just the circular outline in red and blue but the inside is painted white, like the star of Steve's shield. The star of Captain America. And that's it a right move, it's exactly what should have been done, because Bucky will proudly wear the colours of Steve.

Bucky looks beautiful with the new arm attached. Really dashing. The metallic shine fits him so well. And being without t-shirt, it's yes, wonderful.

“Perfect.” Tony murmurs, smiling brightly, so proud. “Try your fingers!” He pats lightly the metallic arm, checking Bucky's reaction. He's completely sure this arm is better than the one he had before, even if it's totally compatible with the previous one.

Bucky curls the fingers, slowly at first, trying them one by one before starting moving them faster and in different combinations, and when he smiles, it's like Tony's world was complete again. He had put that smile on Bucky's face, he did this, the arm is good and there's nothing else he could wish for.

And then, Bucky raises his arm, sliding his metallic hand down Tony's arm and Tony's breath hitches again, his mind thinking about all the possibilities that he is probably misreading. So he pulls away from the touch. He is frozen for half a minute before moving again.

“Is it something I said?” Bucky pauses, uncertainty and hurt filling his expression, when Tony looks up at him “Did I do something wrong?”

“What?! No, no, you did nothing!” He holds his hands up to deflect the idea, but Bucky actually grabs them and takes them closer to his chest, pulling him closer until they are chest to chest and he can't avoid Bucky's gaze without bumping his forehead to Bucky's face.

He can't avoid it, he smiles foolishly at the thought of being so close to Bucky. He might be slightly embarrassed but it's also quite hot.

It's almost a skin reflex, he tilts his head and plants a kiss on Bucky's mouth. A sweet touch of their lips, taking Bucky's lower lip between his own lips and touching just the tip of his tongue to the centre of it. It's delicious. It tastes like heaven. Bucky's arms immediately move from his hands to the back of his head, threading his fingers into the hair in the nape of his head, so carefully, so delicately. The metallic fingers don't feel cold, they are still warm from having been holding them as he worked on the arm.

“Tony?” It's barely more than a whisper, no more than a caress of his lips but he's so focused on them that he can't miss the sound.

“Yeah?” He kisses the lips softly again, so chastely.

“Yea.” Bucky's grip tightens in his hair, and if it wasn't because Bucky is ducking his head down, he'd have been swooped out his feet already. Damn, the guy is tall. And he doesn't look like a lost kid anymore, nor his expression looks like any he has ever seen in Steve. Now it's all Bucky, and it's hot. Way hotter than he has any right to.

And kissing that full lips... it's one of the best sensations he has ever felt. They are done for kissing. They should be worshipped, he should never stop kissing Bucky.

“What do you say to dinner out, Jay?” He mumbles against his lips, in between kisses, almost nuzzling his lips to Bucky's. They are full and red from sucking, and deliciously warm.

“I have nothing to wear.” Bucky recognizes, almost embarrassed. “I loaned those from Steve. I used to be a head taller than him.” Bucky says his head in disbelief and pulls back a bit from the embrace, hands still on his neck. Bucky's fingers are sweetly caressing his cheeks.

“Jay, babe, order clothes for your namesake. You know his measures. Throw a suit or two in. Casual clothes for today, make them come fast.” He winks at Bucky “I don't think you want to go full fancy without tasting the regular food first... Or that you will be even remotely satisfied with the quantity of the food, if Steve is a reference to your appetite.”

“Probably is. I wouldn't know.” Bucky pulls him closer again, like he can't accept the fact of Tony being away from him at all. “I trust you, Tony.”

A strangled sound finds its way through his throat and he ends up resting his head against Bucky's chest. A very hard and very naked chest, with a scent so masculine and fresh, so _Bucky_ , that shuts off any thought he might be having.

“We can find out many things about me. Together.” Bucky keeps saying, his lips brushing against the top of Tony's head. So tender.

“God, Steve will kill me.” Tony whimpers, his arms wrapped around Bucky's naked waist, Bucky's arms still resting on his shoulders.

It's almost like the sentence is a cue for Steve to enter the workshop.

“Tony!” He articulates, as if he was at a complete loss of the situation unfolding in front of his eyes, his gaze darting between the two of them like he had seen a ghost “Bucky!” He looks to be gobsmacked, gaping at them.

“Good afternoon, punk.” Bucky caresses the back of Tony's neck, his arms still around his shoulders and not allowing Tony to pull away from him.

“Afternoon.” Steve answers back after a moment, blinking.

“My arm is all finished.” Bucky raises that arm from its place, allowing Steve to take a look at it, even if Steve is still frozen a couple of meters away from them. “Tony did a piece of art. Works better than the old one. Feels much better than the old one.”

Tony feels himself blush against Bucky's chest and takes that as a hint to pull back from him “You deserved something good.”

“I totally have something good.” Bucky winks at him and brushes his flesh hand against his cheek.

“What's going on there?” Steve is still gaping, trying to make any sense out of the situation.

“We” Bucky takes hold of Tony's hand, like trying to enforce his use of the pronoun “were planning our date. We're going out tonight.”

“Yeah.” Tony agrees, his gaze still focused on Bucky, because he has a mischievous smile right now and it's a total turn on. He's again the young guy from before the war and it's totally hot.

“That's all you have to say 'bout it, jerk? Has the cat got your tongue?” Bucky's flesh hand smacks his ass and that makes him lean against Bucky's chest again. “Won't you woo me anymore?”

“I don't feel comfortable telling your best friend how much I want to fuck your brains out. Call it respect, call it plain good ol' fear 'cause your friend can snap me in two, whatever you prefer.” He whispers against Bucky's skin, not wanting to dwell in whether Steve and his super-senses can hear his words.

“Come with me and explain what's going on.” Steve asks, almost pleading. Surely he could, then.

“No, punk.” Bucky says, still holding Tony's hand “Right now, I'm going to his apartment to wait for some clothes of my own, then I'm going out with him because we are going to have dinner and I really, really intend to make out some more on the way back.”

“On board with that.” Tony answers, grinning widely.

“Don't wait awake for me, Stevie!” Bucky winks at Steve, pulling Tony's hand and jerking his head towards the door, both of them laughing and running to the elevator, like they were kids, leaving a nonplussed Steve behind.


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update today, don't skip the third chapter! :)

_Three months later._

“Sit down, Steve, please.” Tony pats the couch next to himself, inviting Steve. The living room from the penthouse actually looks like a living room, Bucky has brought all those comfortable couches and armrests, and the habitants of the tower often find themselves here instead of occupying the common floor.

Actually, ever since Bucky moved to the penthouse, it's like they all – the Avengers, Sam, the occasional agents from SHIELD – have become a family.

“What's wrong now, Tony?” Steve asks, completely worried and frowning so much that his face looks completely wrinkled but nevertheless sitting down next to Tony.

“There is a completely serious topic that I need to discuss with you.” He shifts in the seat, nervous, because there is a huge possibility of Steve killing him right now “Not really discussing. I simply want to ask for permission, given that you are Bucky's closest kin.”

Steve grows even more worried with every word Tony says, his eyebrows are about to fuse with his hairline now “What are you even talking about, Tony?”

“I want your blessing.” He murmurs, and he can feel the blood pooling in his cheeks because those are words he never thought he'd say, much less to Steve fucking Rogers “I want to ask for Bucky's hand... in... marriage.”

“What?! You are serious?!” Steve's cheeks have become pale, and his voice is almost broken “I thought you two were just fooling around!”

“I'm offended, Cap.” Tony frowns, moving away from Steve “Not even joking, I am deeply offended. Of course we are serious, we have been dating for months now and I could never imagine” he shakes his hands, trying to find a correct expression for this feeling, and failing miserably because he's so surprised “this coming from you.”

“You both never told anyone!!” Steve is furious and perhaps asking for his permission was a completely wrong move “Ever since that first day we all have been trying to get any of you to explain what is going on, and you always duck the questions, like two teenagers hiding from their parents! There are bets about everything about your... _relationship_ , Tony! And I can honestly swear that not even one of the bets involve marriage, not even remotely close! People thinks you are just... letting off some steam, after the battles!”

Tony blinks, placing both his hands over his own knees, chastised. “Okay, let's start this over again, Cap.” He looks up at Steve, trying to keep himself still “Bucky and I have been dating for the last three months, on a very exclusive, compromised and loving relationship. We thought it was obvious for anyone, since we aren't sneaking around... we touch and kiss in front of everyone and he moved into the penthouse with me. Even the press knows, because we never hid in our dates... Oh, for God's sake.” He breathes in and out a couple of times before keeping talking, because he was getting too hot and bothered “I love him, he loves me, and I want to give another step in the right direction. I want to marry him and I know that it would be really important to him that you approve of this, Steve.”

Steve sighs, just like he just lost a battle and places one of his hands on Tony's shoulder “Would it have been so hard to do this from the beginning, Tony?”

“Well, yes.” Tony tilts his head, trying to hold Steve's gaze “Yes. Because the both of us were tremendously unsure with this, with us, being what the other wanted. We needed that time to ourselves, to convince ourselves that the other was just as smitten as we were. We had no time or resources left to convince anyone else, Steve. If it's worth anything, I am sorry.”

“That's...” Steve is nonplussed again, looking at Tony like it was the first time he saw him.

“Mature. I hope the word you are looking for is mature, even if we did behave like two teens behind their parents backs.” Tony lays a hand on Steve's shoulder, squeezing it slightly “James is good for me, Steve. He makes me think about the future, and I love planning for us. Actually, scratch that, he's not good, he is perfect for me.”

“The others will be so surprised. They wouldn't even believe it when I told them...” He shakes his head “That I saw you two kissing, that first time.”

“They'll get used to it, Cap. Don't worry. Nothing will break the team.”

“Marriage is a serious issue. You can't undo it like...” Steve is still looking dazed, like he's trying to take in everything, but he also looks happier than he did a while before.

“I know.” Tony interrupts him, not wanting to hear any comparison of broken marriages just now “I know. I am very, very serious about this, Steve, I have never been more serious about anything.” Steve nods then and Tony takes that as a cue to stand up and kiss his forehead “Thank you, Steve. Especially, thank you for bringing him into my life... and now if you'll excuse me, I gotta find my fiancé. To tell him that we're totally getting married.”

“I want to see the ring!” Steve laughs.

Tony takes a small box from his jacket and opens it to show a thick, very masculine ring with diamonds in the shape of a star, rubies around them. “Keep it secret, keep it safe. If Bucky hears anything about the ring before I ask him, I am blaming you.” He winks, leaving the room in a hurry to find Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the end. I hope you enjoyed it all as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Thank you all for all the kudos, subscriptions and bookmarks, it really felt like this fic had an awesome reception. I didn't get much feedback, though, so any comments about what you liked or what didn't make it would be greatly appreciated.
> 
> Once more, thank you all! <3


	5. Epilogue II

_Later, that week_

It's late when he can actually come back home. Much later than he wanted to when he left for the meeting with the board of directors; perhaps too late to act on his own plans, surely Bucky is already asleep. The lights are off, and that's a good indicator of Bucky being in their bed and whether he is awake or not there, that's another completely different issue.

“Jay?”

“On the terrace!”

“Why are you there?”

“Because I wanted to enjoy the night, why else would I be here, you jerk?”

When he steps into the terrace he sees a table for two with candles ready to be lit. Not that the fact is surprising, since he put them there himself earlier today. What is surprising is finding Bucky at the terrace, when he usually avoids anywhere near cliffs. Nothing to blame him about, really.

And still, he managed to ignore that when thinking about how to surprise Bucky. He shouldn't be at the terrace. They were supposed to go in together, hand in hand, Tony whispering sweet nothings into Bucky's ear, getting him ready for the big moment.

He is the surprised one, because Bucky is wearing a suit and there is a rose over the table. Not a single cut flower, but a plant. It's small, it's pretty and it has the prettiest and reddest roses he has ever seen. It has streaks of golden, too.

One of the tower's bot delivers the dinner and Tony serves it, cutting the _awkward_ silence. It's not exactly awkward, it's just that they are both surprised to find the other wearing a suit and they are enjoying the sight. Tony's hand wanders to touch the plant, a bit hesitating, like he was touching a newborn. It's alive, too, and Bucky brought it so it's fucking special.

Tony feeds Bucky a bit of his lasagne and Bucky chuckles, feeding Tony with one of his French fries. They spend the rest of the dinner feeding food to each other, about to start a food war on the terrace, where everyone could see them.

“I didn't conveniently remember an anniversary that I had forget, did I, James?” He says, smirking. Because this is way too good to be a coincidence.

“Nope.” Bucky pops the p, making his lips look delicious. “No need for excuses, any time is good to spend it with you, Tony.” The way Bucky says his name has always made Tony's heart weak. It's like a caress to his ears.

A bottle of champagne is drowned before the dinner is over, both of them drinking happily, staring at the other like they had done it forever... or like it was the first time.

* * *

The dinner is gone before the two of them go stiff again, looking at the other with awkward small smiles. Bucky has never looked younger or more innocent than he looks now, not even that first time he woke up at the workshop nor the first time... _their_ first time.

It's just amazing that Bucky is all for him. He can't allow him to run away, hence the ring that sits heavy on his pocket. He's not the first one to move, though.

Bucky takes a box out of his jacket and leaves it over the table, firmly wrapped under his right hand. “Tony... I want you to have this. It doesn't have to mean anything, even if I'd like it to mean it.” His hands would be shaking if he wasn't holding stuff in them. “Means a lot for me.”

Tony's eyes light up and he leaves his own box over the table, just besides Bucky's, making grabby hands for Bucky to exchange their boxes. “Deal if you do the same with mine, Jay.”

He can't stop smiling, even if a part of himself is fearing what will he find on the box. What if it's a totally normal gift and Bucky rejects him? Because, let's face it, he's proposing marriage after three months into their relationship, as much as he just admitted a way out in the form of _it doesn't have to mean anything_. But of course it does. It means the whole world. _Bucky_ means the whole world.

“You first.” Bucky murmurs, smiling widely. His heart seems to be fluttering in his throat as he takes the box from Bucky's hand, caressing the lovely long fingers before taking the box into his hands and opening it slowly, looking at Bucky's eyes while he does so.

When he looks down, he gapes. Seriously. Someone pick up his brain, there's an answer to give to this!

The pieces of metal are shinning in the box, gathering all the light from the terrace.

Bucky's dog tags wait for him in the box.

He picks them up, his fingers trembling, making the metal tingle as he puts them on his chest, putting the hand over his heart and pressing the tags against his skin.

He feels like he is completely out of his senses, because this is better than anything else he could have received and that includes an engagement ring as the one he just gave to Bucky. Fuck, he feels so shitty now, his ring is cheesy compared to... this.

“Can I open mine?” Bucky says with a small smile, trembling in emotion as well, what Tony guesses is the emotion of seeing Tony fucking Stark as struck as he is right now.

“Yes. Go ahead, Jay.” He doesn't think he can release the tags, even if Bucky asks him to do so, so he just waves his left hand for Bucky to open the box.

And so Bucky does, opening it slowly and letting his fingers touch before he looks. Tony can clearly see his index finger drawing the circle of the ring before Bucky looks down... and he gapes as well. His immediate reaction is to take the ring from the box, absolutely forgetting the small piece and letting it fall from the table, all that seems to matter is the ring that he holds between his thumb and index; and if it wasn't such an horrible moment to joke, he'd be croaking a ' _my precious_ ' joke. If the situation wasn't that serious, he'd be laughing his ass out at this.

“Would you consider it, James?” He whispers, looking into Bucky's eyes that immediately move to look at him, so many emotions running through them that he can't identify them all. “It doesn't need to be soon, just, like, an idea...” He starts rambling but Bucky cuts him short.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

Bucky smiles brightly and leans forward, his left hand touching Tony's chin to kiss him thoroughly but sweetly. “Yes, and soon.” Bucky leaves the ring in Tony's open hand, though, before saying “Now ask properly.”

Tony smiles and gets down on his knee before Bucky, holding the ring with one hand and Bucky's hand on the other.

“Jay, my love, since I want to spend the rest of my days and my nights with you, I come before you with this... token of my affection... to ask for something that would complete my world.” He rolls the ring on his fingers, while staring at Bucky “Would you marry me?”

“Yes, Tony, I would.” Tony slips the ring on Bucky's ring finger and stands up to kiss him, being quickly pulled into Bucky's lap. “I will.” He still says between kisses, as they quickly move to their bedroom, kissing and groping the other.

* * *

It's only when he wakes up the next morning, with Bucky spooning him, an arm firmly wrapped around his waist, that he notices how the tags were as much as a declaration as his ring.

Oh, God, his heart is melting... under the soft sunlight filtering through the blinders, Jarvis' way to wake them up gently, he reads the name on the tags...

_James Buchanan Barnes-Stark_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I will keep writing small one shots for the two of them, since I seem to have fallen in love with their small world, but I have created a series to post the other works. 
> 
> This belongs to this arc, though, since they are just too cute and they deserved this scene.


End file.
